


The Silence of Aokigahara

by VelvetNova



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aokigahara, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Japan, M/M, Mentioned cutting, Supernatural - Freeform, Thoughts of Suicide, castiel - Freeform, gay themes, mention of drug use, mention of suicide, mt fuji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 16:38:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17770400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VelvetNova/pseuds/VelvetNova
Summary: This story is heavily filled with sadness, and grief. With the loss of Ben and Lisa, Dean isn't sure what to do anymore. He visits the Aokigahara forest at the base of Mt. Fuji, where he believes it will be his last, until he meets a disheveled man in a dirty and bloody trench coat... they try to find the best in life, whats left to live for and what is soon to be, survival.-This story is inspired by the movie, Sea of Trees, if you haven't seen it...well it's really good! (it's on netflix!) I do not plan on using the plot or it's characters, I just had a lot of inspiration! It also has mentions of suicide, some dark themes, but no MCD, I do NOT want to trigger anyone. If you are going through thoughts of suicide, PLEASE talk to someone, reach OUT!





	The Silence of Aokigahara

That crash is what did it for Dean. The crash that had ended the both lives of Ben and Lisa.

But for right now, all he could hear was the drizzle of rain pattering against the forest leaves from above him, the sound of splats of raindrops hitting the stream from down below him. The sounds were soothing, yet held no comfort from the hell that was raging inside his mind. The bottle of pills that were in his hand held right now, were either the end of everything or a transcendental ride to wherever his soul may wind up.

Either way, what bliss. A blissful end to all the suffering and guilt that was engraved in his heart and mind, a blissful end to the self hatred that that gathered in every fiber of his body. That guilt, was feeding his demons. The demons that would speak to him at night, or a whisper in his ear during a normal conversation. They were eating him from the inside out. Those same demons were telling him to end it all, sooner rather than later. His sober mind kept telling him that, 'Lisa and Ben wouldn't have wanted this for me, they would have wanted me to move on and have kids on my own...to live life for them...' But he couldn't live the same wholesome life that he lived with when he was with them and his brother, Sam. That same thought was what himself and the demons could agree on. Because he had fought long and hard for months now, he did it for Sam. To show that he would be okay, that everything would be back to normal.

'Nothing would be normal ever again...' he thought as he was perched on top of a mossy emerald green rock. The tree that was directly above him had low hanging branches, the saturated green leaves began to drip on his face, he leaned his head up to let all the morning dew and soon to be heavy drips or rain envelop his face. He sat there like that for a while, but soon hung his head as water droplets trickled down his nose.

The forest he was in, Aokigahara, the Suicide Forest was at the base of Mount Fuji. It was a maze of deep crevices and lanky tree roots that grasped no remorse in the taking of souls from underneath it's beautiful mossy floor. The thick canopy concealed away the screams of its victims, as they would echo into the ears of deaf trees; their limbs adorned with nooses as if they were Christmas ornaments. But it was no holiday, just another day where the rotting corpses would sway in the chilled wind with glassy eyes that held souls no more.

Dean morbidly thought of how his body would decompose. Would his body rot slowly as nature took its own course, would bugs eat him till there was nothing left of him but bones, or would he simply mold away and become one with the forest? He wasn't sure, and was sure he would never know. For when he poured most of what was left of the pills into his shaky hand, he heard a sobbing cry. A cry that not only echoed loudly, but made his his muscles tighten and his bones shiver.

What he saw, was a disheveled man in a blood and dirt ridden trench coat, with deep red cuts along his arms. The man's eyes darted in every direction but up, where Dean was perched and hidden deeply between the strands of moss that hung from every tree limb. The man looked desperate, his arms were held out in a shaky manner, and his lost cries were becoming weaker.

Dean figured that this man was not only lost in his own mind but was also lost in a physical sense, as he stumbled on his own wobbled feet and finally sunk to his knees in defeat.

Dean sighed heavily. The pills that he held, the ones that seemed to hold his future were put on hold, as he placed them back into the large bottle and into his leather jacket. He had a sudden, somewhat heroic, urge to help this man. As he guided himself down slowly off the slick mossy rock, he yelled out for dark haired man that was hunched between the enormous tree roots. He looked up at Dean and weakly showed his wrists. Dried blood and mud was crusted almost completely over both open wounds. The most desperate and brightest blue eyes stared right into Dean and stopped him in his tracks. Dean was silent and the only sound there was, were the heavy frantic breaths of a hopeless man on the verge of tears.

"Help." was all he could mutter. And Dean did just that. He quickly took his brown leather jacket off and stripped of his maroon checkered flannel to shred the arms off as quickly as he could. He soon began to wipe the crusted parts that surrounded the open gashes. That were obviously intentional cuts that seemed to be regretted soon after. He looked at the quiet man, his five o'clock shadow, and the bags under his eyes that seem hang there with guilt, and his wide chapped lips that were beginning crust. And what seemed to be a long, eerily quiet moment, he applied pressure to each of his wrists and gingerly bound and tied them separately.

"What are you doing here man?" Dean said in almost a whisper.

Those brilliant blue eyes looked up at him, "The same as you, I suppose..." he grasped at his new bandages, admiring the handy work, his lips had the slightest curve to them, "...Thank you for this. I highly appreciate it."

"It's not a problem," Dean's voice was heavy with concern, "Seriously man...what are you doing out here? What's your name?"

"It's Castiel." He took a desperate look around at their surroundings, "I'm lost... I have been for a day and a half now. This forest is unforgiving, and I've lost the trail... I should have never come here or gone off and wandered."

"I'm Dean, and you know what?" He stood up and offered his hand to Castiel, "I'm going to help you get out of this damn place." Castiel's eyes seemed to glimmer as he took the hand that seemed to be his beacon of hope.


End file.
